Mathematics, Todd (Us), Ghostface Killah, Buddah Bless, Masta Killa, T-Slugz - U.S.A. lyrics
[Mathematics, Todd Us, Ghostface Killah, Buddah Bless, Masta Killa, T-Slugz - U.S.A. lyrics]
Walked up in the party like Riz', Ghost, Meth
Allah's on the wheels, Chef on the left
Fifty rep chin ups, the Wu rims up
Put down the Heine' for a sec
Tie my Timb's up
Cake the Benz up, Starks ole'
Got the summer house crib
Beats spun, murder you, than lay
Ric Flair cabbage and carrots
Big exotic boat trips
The honey motion, wind up in Paris
Had a bad dream and it came to me
That I died and went to heaven
Ain't have no weed
God said "Son, let me see your ID"
(Buddah Bless) gotta be right behind me
Which reminds me
B, I'm just a thug
After hip hop, money, sex and drugs
After chicks that got money
And tech's with slugs
You see the head to toe, yo
The way I dress is love
Plus them nine bang quick
And the hand game speak for it'self
Like sign language, you lost and shook
Like the fish that got away, man
I'm off the hook
When these niggas gotta pay
Get it off the books
Yo, knocked on a humble
Slid through the system
Bag me a C Wall, on the bench of the bullpen
My speaker for the pillow
My locked down presidents
Conflictors, for the robbers and jukkers
The buck fifty stitch zippers, if you wit us
From my Chi Town thugs to
My Killa Cali gangstas
Minnesota Wolves, Philly Six shooters
We ain't chuck potent, we off money throw up
It don't mean nothing to me
Ya'll can't get nothing from me
Stop frontin' from me and
Ya'll ain't got nothing for me
I take you where you want it to be
I'm who you wanted to see
And I'm that same dude, that came through
Runnin' with the same crew, still here
Reppin' all the same rules
CD's easy to move, honey say
I'm easy to choose, that ain't easy to you
And I stand out, big time, y'all easy to lose
Niggas face all screwed
I'm just breakin' the news
And we do this for the cash
Still keep a stash in a brown paper bag
Me and my nigga Mad, light
Skinned, dark skinned, we lovin'
What an ass
Slow that thing down, ma, you movin' too fast
Yo, you movin' to fast
Watch PI, throw the shit on smash
This game is high risk, player
Strictly for brick breakers and brick layers
Spit razors
Jewel gem star, ball with the players
Who grab the rim hard
Walk on dot, and it's the P on hard
When it's off season
I bring the pain til your balls bleeding
Quick as a Porsche speed
My niggas floss frequent
Catch us up in court reading, with a
Couple of sons, that's used to hustlin' drums
I guess that's the only way
We double our funds everything hardcore
When we slide in the door
Wait til we go back on tour
New exclusive joint, two thousand and - and
Had a bad dream and it came to me
That I died and went to heaven
Ain't have no weed
God said "Son, let me see your ID"
(Buddah Bless) gotta be right behind me
Which reminds me
I walk with crooks, love guns
Married to gats that cali' detach
Your back from that battery pack
My salary stack
Chain make these other niggas hurl
Yeah it's O and G
I'm O and P in other nigga's girl
I ain't lovin' nigga's girl
I'm just training, just banging
Just hanging
Smokin' while my other nigga's twirl
(It's a gutter nigga's world) I'm
All about the cheddar, man
Any problems you want, speak to my beretta
Man
I was taught from young, that
Live is what you making it
Stuck on the crooked road
But, I was taught to straighten it
Every track flamin' it, every gat, aimin' it
Before I start sprayin' it
And then I start banging it
Strong arm, I'm claimin' it
If I bring a chick to the crib
And she ain't my wifey, then we clangin' it
Spit hard, probably cuz I'm missing my fam
If it's beef
Y'all niggas better 'dip' like Cam
Son, you get mine, get knocked
And then I just get time
But, I'mma hit the boy hard
Just like you was a punchline
You spit, oh shit, call this here, lunch time
I'mma throw hot sauce all
Over that lunch rhyme
Rap for days, that'll blow like grenades
Flow so hot, it'll make 'em run for shade
Nowadays, the D's gettin' niggas, picked up
So I hustle and sit up and let God big up
Fag, they call me Betty
Cuz I got that ready rock
For any nigga that's ready to
Go inside the baker shop
Money mean a lot so I keeps mine in the wall
You the type that get a dollar and
Go and run to the store
Not me, each dollar I get, I make a copy
To let y'all know, for the love of this
I was the body looks are deceiving
So I'm askin' y'all to try me
Man was the one, who made hand guns a hobby
Had a bad dream and it came to me
That I died and went to heaven
Ain't have no weed
God said "Son, let me see your ID"
(Buddah Bless) gotta be right behind me
Which reminds me
Had a bad dream and it came to me
That I died and went to heaven
Ain't have no weed
God said "Son, let me see your ID"
(Buddah Bless) gotta be right behind me
Which reminds me
Allah's on the wheels, Chef on the left
Fifty rep chin ups, the Wu rims up
Put down the Heine' for a sec
Tie my Timb's up
Cake the Benz up, Starks ole'
Got the summer house crib
Beats spun, murder you, than lay
Ric Flair cabbage and carrots
Big exotic boat trips
The honey motion, wind up in Paris
Had a bad dream and it came to me
That I died and went to heaven
Ain't have no weed
God said "Son, let me see your ID"
(Buddah Bless) gotta be right behind me
Which reminds me
B, I'm just a thug
After hip hop, money, sex and drugs
After chicks that got money
And tech's with slugs
You see the head to toe, yo
The way I dress is love
Plus them nine bang quick
And the hand game speak for it'self
Like sign language, you lost and shook
Like the fish that got away, man
I'm off the hook
When these niggas gotta pay
Get it off the books
Yo, knocked on a humble
Slid through the system
Bag me a C Wall, on the bench of the bullpen
My speaker for the pillow
My locked down presidents
Conflictors, for the robbers and jukkers
The buck fifty stitch zippers, if you wit us
From my Chi Town thugs to
My Killa Cali gangstas
Minnesota Wolves, Philly Six shooters
We ain't chuck potent, we off money throw up
It don't mean nothing to me
Ya'll can't get nothing from me
Stop frontin' from me and
Ya'll ain't got nothing for me
I take you where you want it to be
I'm who you wanted to see
And I'm that same dude, that came through
Runnin' with the same crew, still here
Reppin' all the same rules
CD's easy to move, honey say
I'm easy to choose, that ain't easy to you
And I stand out, big time, y'all easy to lose
Niggas face all screwed
I'm just breakin' the news
And we do this for the cash
Still keep a stash in a brown paper bag
Me and my nigga Mad, light
Skinned, dark skinned, we lovin'
What an ass
Slow that thing down, ma, you movin' too fast
Yo, you movin' to fast
Watch PI, throw the shit on smash
This game is high risk, player
Strictly for brick breakers and brick layers
Spit razors
Jewel gem star, ball with the players
Who grab the rim hard
Walk on dot, and it's the P on hard
When it's off season
I bring the pain til your balls bleeding
Quick as a Porsche speed
My niggas floss frequent
Catch us up in court reading, with a
Couple of sons, that's used to hustlin' drums
I guess that's the only way
We double our funds everything hardcore
When we slide in the door
Wait til we go back on tour
New exclusive joint, two thousand and - and
Had a bad dream and it came to me
That I died and went to heaven
Ain't have no weed
God said "Son, let me see your ID"
(Buddah Bless) gotta be right behind me
Which reminds me
I walk with crooks, love guns
Married to gats that cali' detach
Your back from that battery pack
My salary stack
Chain make these other niggas hurl
Yeah it's O and G
I'm O and P in other nigga's girl
I ain't lovin' nigga's girl
I'm just training, just banging
Just hanging
Smokin' while my other nigga's twirl
(It's a gutter nigga's world) I'm
All about the cheddar, man
Any problems you want, speak to my beretta
Man
I was taught from young, that
Live is what you making it
Stuck on the crooked road
But, I was taught to straighten it
Every track flamin' it, every gat, aimin' it
Before I start sprayin' it
And then I start banging it
Strong arm, I'm claimin' it
If I bring a chick to the crib
And she ain't my wifey, then we clangin' it
Spit hard, probably cuz I'm missing my fam
If it's beef
Y'all niggas better 'dip' like Cam
Son, you get mine, get knocked
And then I just get time
But, I'mma hit the boy hard
Just like you was a punchline
You spit, oh shit, call this here, lunch time
I'mma throw hot sauce all
Over that lunch rhyme
Rap for days, that'll blow like grenades
Flow so hot, it'll make 'em run for shade
Nowadays, the D's gettin' niggas, picked up
So I hustle and sit up and let God big up
Fag, they call me Betty
Cuz I got that ready rock
For any nigga that's ready to
Go inside the baker shop
Money mean a lot so I keeps mine in the wall
You the type that get a dollar and
Go and run to the store
Not me, each dollar I get, I make a copy
To let y'all know, for the love of this
I was the body looks are deceiving
So I'm askin' y'all to try me
Man was the one, who made hand guns a hobby
Had a bad dream and it came to me
That I died and went to heaven
Ain't have no weed
God said "Son, let me see your ID"
(Buddah Bless) gotta be right behind me
Which reminds me
Had a bad dream and it came to me
That I died and went to heaven
Ain't have no weed
God said "Son, let me see your ID"
(Buddah Bless) gotta be right behind me
Which reminds me